Ghost Adventures: United We Stand
by kbchick
Summary: Something happened in the Morgue that we didn't see. Something Zak and Aaron missed. If only Nick could remember...
1. Missing Footage

**First Ghost Adventures fic. First fic in a while too. Season 1 Episode 6.**  
><strong>AU because I took a few liberties. Basically revolves around an unseen event. No Slash.<br>Disclaimer: I am not nor have I ever been associated with Ghost Adventures or the Travel Channel  
><strong>

Aaron notices something off with Nick almost immediately. The detached, dull look in his eyes; the lack of exhaustion-fueled chatter made of real words and unintelligible mumbles. The often quiet investigator usually had something on his mind after a lock down or wanted to pump some music with a smile. But the van was definitely more somber than usual. With Zak on his phone and the radio off, the atmosphere for this post lockdown high is far too heavy and dank. So they drive in silence: Zak clicking away on twitter, Aaron checking over their equipment, and Nick staring blankly down the open road.

When they eventually get back to HQ, they wait for Zak to finish recording the VOs and Aaron decides to do some investigating of his own. He finds his old friend a little ways from the van, back against a tall pine tree.

"Hey, Nick," the oldest of the crew calls out. "Nick!"

"Hmm?" Caught off guard, the man in question is startled out of his thoughts. "What's up?"

"Dude, You feelin' alright?"

Nodding hesitantly and making as little eye contact as possible, a mumbled "Yeah," reaches Aaron's ears.

"You sure? I've known you for years and I've never seen you this…withdrawn." Aaron looks down on his friend with concern. An awkward beat passes between them before the goofy tech says, "Then again, I'm pretty sure I'd still be crying like a baby if I'd been stuck in that morgue for so long!"

Aaron smiles triumphantly, noticing he enticed a little chuckle out of somber man.

"I mean, I think so," Nick stared off through the high branches of tall trees, twisting his wedding ring with his thumb and pointer finger.

"I just feel sort of...off? I don't know, man," the Boston man sighs and runs his fingers through his short hair.

Aaron isn't liking what he's hearing, but before he can dig any further, Zak pops out of the van and stands in between them. He's always had this invincible aura about him; it made you feel protected and at ease but still wanting to punch him for being so obnoxious and headstrong.

"Well, I'm ready to hibernate for a week." The spiky-haired man bumps his tall friend on the shoulder. "Let's get this stuff finished up and go home." He pats Nick on the back then trots ahead of the guys, stretching his arms.

"Aaron, I'm gonna need some help with Nick's footage," he turns, walking backward. "There's this weird malfunction with his camera or something."  
>Aaron makes some comment about needing a nightlight and Zak teases him for being a baby while Nick follows behind in a daze, only catching one word from his 'partner in crime'.<p>

_Malfunction?_

The word causes his stilted stride to slow until he stops. A sudden sense of confusion (or recognition) came over him. Hadn't something happened in the morgue? He doesn't remember any surges of energy or hearing any disembodied voices. Nick wasn't sure if his lack of memory was caused by his own self-reservation or something else? Had something gone wrong in the suffocating space and his mind's only method of defense was to bury it deep within his mind?

The wind ruffles his black button up, as if attempting to get him moving again.

"Hey, Nick?" The distracted man hears his name from a few yards away. When he looks over, Zak stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and Aaron still has that concerned look on his face. He quickly realizes they are waiting for him to answer.

"Yeah?"

The older investigators share a look that he can't figure out because of the distance. Zak calls out again."You ready to go, buddy? This stuff isn't going edit itsel-dude, stop!" Zak's interrupted by an elbow in his side, and Aaron whispering something Nick doesn't catch.

Nick glances over his shoulder before jogging over to the two.

"Sorry about that," he says, shaking off his funk. "Tripped over a root or something."

Zak throws an arm over Nick's shoulder, including him in their banter.

_Far too close, _a disembodied voice whispers, anxiously.

_Soon...The time is near._


	2. Home Coming

**Yay! Chapter 2!  
>Next chapter (and possibly chapter 4) will be a slightly altered version of the episode.<br>Enjoy!  
><strong>  
>After finishing up some editing, Zak and Aaron agreed that Nick should head home and rest. Nick wanted to decline, knowing they have over 12 hours of footage for the x-cameras, plus the scenic shots and the interviews they did before the lockdown to edit, but who was he to deny such a generous offer? He thanked them with a weary smile and threw all his belongings in the van, with dozing Zak in the passenger seat and Aaron in the driver's seat.<p>

When the older investigators returned to HQ, Zak shuffled into the editing room while Aaron poured himself another cup of coffee in the kitchen.

"I mean, the guy_ was_ locked in a morgue for almost an hour," Aaron yelled to Zak, who was pouting on the couch.

"Yeah, I guess," He mumbled, annoyed at the amount of editing he had to do. _Christ,_ there was so much editing…

Aaron came into the room and slowly sat down at his desk. Aaron chuckles, shaking his head.

"Fuck that, dude. If you ever make me do that shit, I swear I'll quit," Aaron spun around in his computer chair, stretching his arms over his head. He just finished up the last of his footage and had the interviews on the second monitor.

"I don't wanna do Nick's coverage," Zak whined, laying stroppily on the couch. He didn't really mind that his friend left early. Nick didn't seem like himself after they left the abandoned hospital but it was getting late and he was more interested in sleeping than watching of his own stupid face in night vision.

Aaron tossed an empty water bottle at his head. "_You're _not doing Nick's coverage, G. I am."

"Same difference," he mumbled, turning his face into the couch. "Wake me up in a few hours and," a yawn interrupted his demand, "and I'll finish something. Probably."

The tech sighed, glaring at the 'fearless leader' of the Ghost Adventures crew who promptly passed out with a pout still prominent on his face.

"How we get these episodes done on time, I'll never know." Aaron downed the lukewarm coffee before turning back to the monitors, looking forward to getting some much needed sleep himself.

**GAC**

After the guys dropped Nick off and they all said their goodbyes, Nick shuffled up the unlocked door and threw his dirty laundry bag close enough to the washer.

Veronique glanced over her shoulder at the sound of her stumbling husband and smiled fondly. A bright smile spreads across Nick's face when he spotted his wife, checking the mail. He rushed over his unsuspecting wife and picked her up from behind in a crushing hug.

"Nick!" She screeched, laughing and struggling to get free from his arms. "Let me down!"

"I missed you," he sighed, pressing a soft kiss against her warn neck, nuzzling his face in her hair. She relaxed in his arms for a moment, happy that he was home, safe and sound. She wiggled loose and turned in his arms, feeling a little giddy herself.

"I missed you too." The blonde pecked him on the nose and wrapped her arms around his neck before pushing him towards the stairs.

"Go on. Go sleep," She shooed him away when he tried to cuddle her again.

He pouted at the sudden loss of contact before he trudged up the staircase. Veronique giggles at the familiar routine of her ghost hunting husband.

"Out for dinner then bed early?" She asked, continuing to flip through the mail.

Nick peaked his head around the corner. "You know me so well, my love," He cooed, blowing obnoxious kisses her way and they both began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Go get some sleep, babe. I'll see you in a few hours." Nick hummed in agreement, tunelessly singing her name as he goes.

He collapsed into their bed, stripping off his shirt, jacket and sneakers, beyond excited to be home at last.

"I'm going to sleep forever," the exhausted man mumbles into the softest pillow in the world before passing out.

**GAC  
><span>**  
>"<em>No!"<em>

Nick sat up, sharply, a yell bursting from his mouth. Veronique's head fell off his shoulder and she groaned, annoyed. She curled onto her side, pulling the warm blanket away from her upright husband.

"Nick, what'r ya'doing?" She mumbled through a yawn. When he didn't answer, she looked over her shoulder.

"Babe?" She could see the concentrated look on his face, eyes flickering all over their dark bedroom, barely illuminated by the sepia light of the street lamps. "What's wrong?"

Veronique rolls onto her back and wraps her right arm around his left. Nick inclines his head to his wife, but his eyes continue to flicker around the room.

"Did-did you hear that?" Came the desperate question, along with a crushing hold on her hand. She sat up, staring at the distressed look on her husband's face. The blonde slowly removed her hand from his grip and gently took Nick's head in her palms.

"Nick," She ran her thumbs over his wet cheekbones, trying to get his attention. "Nick, look at me, love. I need you to breathe."

Nick's eyes finally settled on his wife's face, chest heaving as he listened. This wasn't uncommon after a lockdown; the nightmares. The unbridled fear penetrating his dreams and leaving scars in its wake. This dance was familiar to the Groffs but, for some reason, this night, this _time_ feels different.

"Come on, baby. Breathe with me. Come on," She coached the well-rehearsed mantra. After settling her hysterical lover down, resting his head on her chest, she wrapped her arms around him, rubbing small circles on his back.

"It was so r-real," Nick reasoned, voice breathy and tired. She could feel his hands tensing and relaxing on the pillows behind her head. It still scared them how quickly things escalate; how susceptible they were, even in their own home.

"I know, I know," She cooed. The blonde could feel the tightness fall away from Nick's muscles as exhaustion overrode his fear.

"I didn' know whatta do," he murmured into her sternum, distress leaking away from his voice. "I ha'no choice."

"You did your best, love." Veronique threaded her fingers through his hair, deep breaths soothing them both.

"But she's here now," Nick was almost asleep when he whispered, "S'all tha'matters."

The blonde rested her tired fingers on the back of his neck. "What did you say?" She asked, fighting to keep her eyes open. But the only response she received was Nick's tinny snores and old tears running down her sleep shirt.

**GAC  
><span>**  
>Nick yawned as he filled up his water bottle while he checked his schedule on his phone. He planned on hitting the gym up for a couple of hours and in the afternoon, meeting with some old friends who were in town for the weekend. As much as he loved hunting with Aaron and Zak, he missed being at home where he could relax without the ever presence of cameras.<p>

The busy man turned the kitchen sink's tap off and twists his bottle shut before heading towards the door. But he froze in his tracks when he heard a laughter coming from outside, near the kitchen window.

_That's weird_, he thinks, checking his watch. _It's 4:35 in the morning_.

Nick shuffled over to the closed window to see nothing but stationary cars in the predawn darkness. He shrugged, dismissing it as the mutterings of a drunk or his imagination, and put his ear buds in. But before he could press play, the high-pitched giggle sounded closer than it was before. He stood still in the door frame between the kitchen and the living room, listening for the sound again.

Nick turned in surprise when heard shuffling and giggling coming from upstairs. He would debunk it as his wife walking around but the shuffling was on the opposite side of the floor, very close to the guest bedroom. Nick toed off his sneakers after grabbing a 10 pound weight out of workout bag.

Silently, he crept up the carpeted staircase, hoping to catch whoever was in his house by surprise. Nick side-stepped past his and his Veronique's room, noting that she was still sound asleep, buried under their large duvet.

"Who's in here?" he whispered with authority into the dark as he approached the guest room.

As a response, he received another bout of high-pitched giggles. Nick eyes widened when he realized how close the intruder was and brandished the weight above his head, ready to attack.

He hesitantly entered the room, the shrill laughter reverberating throughout the room, and tried to find the source of the sound.

Through the tittering laughter, Nick heard a young child whisper, _Over here, _from the closet. Whilst stood in front of the door, the sound became almost unbearable and he dropped the weight and plugged both ears.

"Ah," he cried out in discomfort. His head felt as though something was trying to scratch its way out. As soon as vision started to blur, his brave front was starting to slip.

"Stop!" He struck the door with his fist. "Stop it!"

The piercing noise stopped and was replaced by his loud, huffing breaths. Nick knew whatever was happening to him was paranormal, and he knew pursuing it could be dangerous. He knew he was being baited but he couldn't control his need to _know._

When he finally touched the doorknob, the room fell into an unnatural silence. Nick clenched his hand around the cool knob, slightly frightened for his wife an what opening the door could do.

Achingly slow, the ghost hunter turn the knob, exhaling sharply as each second passed by. He remembered opening the door and staring in to the enclosed space and then feeling carpet against his unshaven cheek. But after that, nothingness.

The next time he was fully aware of his surroundings, Nick was curled up in their bed, staring at the midday sun. Nick blinked his eyes, lazily before rolling onto his stomach.

_What the fuck is going on here…_

**GAC****  
><strong>_  
><em>Veronique tilted her head as she watched her husband writhed in his sleep, brow furrowed in distress. From the door frame she could see every stress line on his forehead, the tiny, jagged scars on the pale skin of the shoulders. The blonde twisted her wedding ring around her finger, mind wandering.

She had what felt like a little ball of worry in the pit of her stomach every time Nick left for one of his hunts. But, once when he returned physically unharmed and full of smiles and bragging of the evidence they'd found, it would dissolve until the next time he left. The blonde rubbed her small hands over her unsettled stomach. The feeling of worry was still there; still sitting there as if her husband wasn't sleeping right in front of her.

Veronique found him sleeping next to a closed closet in the guest bedroom a few hours with his arm bent under his body. She had lifted him under the arms and dragged him to their bed after stripping off his workout clothes. After tucking him in, Nick started whimpering and mumbling something she couldn't decipher, so she sat with him until she had to get ready for work.

"Beet, wash out fo' th'beet…" Veronique pushed off the door frame and sat near his head.

"Where's the beet, babe?" She whispered, stroking the side of his clammy face, gently. Nick leaned into her cool touch, moaning in relief.

"Th'morgue! Beware the beet…" The miserable man's slurred words devolved into pitiful whimpers as he turned away from his wife and buried his face into his pillow.

With her purse on her shoulder, the concerned woman tucked the edges of the duvet around her husband and kissed him on the temple and headed out for work.

As Veronique got into her car and started the engine of her car, she couldn't stop herself from wondering about that morgue. She pulled into traffic, trying to ignore that uncomfortable feeling pulsing strongly with every breath she took.

**It's suppose to seem a little choppy. Sorry if it threw you off!  
>The next one is going to take a little bit of time. <strong>


	3. Breaking Down

**Chapter 3! Yay!  
>Disclaimer: Don't Own A Thing!<strong>

_"Well, I'm ready to hibernate for a week-"_

_"I missed you too." The blonde pecked him on the nose and wrapped her arms around his neck_-

"…_the metal folded like wet paper and-"_

"_Aaron, he's turning blue!"…"We need to get him to a hospital. NOW-"_

"_AARON!" He threw an arm out to protect his friend. "RUN-"_

_Black eyes bore into his own. "Well, isn't this going to be fun-"_

"_I'm so sorry," the tiny orb was flickering in his bruised palms. "So sorry...I couldn't-"_

Everything is moving too fast.

Nick blinks at the flickering images bleeding into one nameless color, unable to comprehend what he's seeing. Or maybe his brain is moving too slowly. Is he moving at all?

Nick tries to move his limbs, but he notices they're too stiff. At best, he can tense his arms that rest at his sides.

Maybe he was nowhere. Maybe this state is a momentary lapse of focus and he'll blink out of it eventually. Like a daydream.

He had no problem accepting this theory compared to being stuck in confusion or a much worse fate. So he continues to kneel in this strange place, watching these familiar and bizarre images.

After some time, Nick thinks he saw a little figure in a long white gown, out of the corner of his eye. _But that isn't possible_, he assures himself. Because he was nowhere.

Then he thinks he feels tiny arms wrap around his neck, soft hair tickling his cheeks, and the white gown limiting his field of view, but that can't be true. He doesn't know where he is.

_He's nowhere. _

The delusion is speaking with a soft, chirpy tone but he can't understand what its saying. Nick closes his eyes nonetheless, focusing solely on its garbled words. He chastises his uncooperative ears but somehow manages to pick up a few sentences here and there.

"…Don't you worry, Nicky. I'll protect you...you protected me." The delusion taps a rhythm-less pattern on the back of his neck. "I won't let him get us…Are safe here."

Nick hears this delusion continue speaking but his head is beginning to ache from concentrating so much.

_...Him who? We are nowhere_, He thinks, sluggishly.

Nick feels a gust of air on his forehead as the soft tapping stops.

"Don't you remember?" A familiar terrified voice whispers directly in his ear.

Suddenly, Nick is burning within a bright light, white fire singeing his skin.

"-In the blackness-"

_"Dark..."_

"It was so scary-"

"Scared..."

The burning man grunts through the pain as the tiny figure disappears into the white light, arms reaching but _unable to touch-_

#

Nick blinked into the waking world. Blurring eyes stared aimlessly at the ceiling while headlights appeared and faded away as cars went by.

He knew he wasn't dreaming. It was so different from the nightmares; no hissing voices belittling him, taunting him about how they could kill his friends and his "belovèd whore" and make him watch over and over and over again because he was too weak to stop them. No, this was different. Better, even.

And Nick cheeks started to ache from grinning because he knew who that tiny figure was. He thought of the sweet little spirit's arms around his neck in comfort.

And he grimaced because he knew exactly who _he_ is; the monster. _Him._

Nick relaxed his tensed muscles and let his strained eyes shut.

Nowhere was safe, he mouthed to himself, aware of Veronique's shifting by his side. He exhaled, loudly and pulled her close by the waist. Nowhere is safe, he mouthed again, nuzzling into her soft hair.

Perhaps he can find the answer to whatever the hell is going on within that strange zone.  
>Nick immediately stopped that curious train of thought.<p>

_Maybe I should call the guys. This could be a game changer for the show, if not something seriously dangerous for us in general._  
>Nick ultimately decided he'd give the experience more thought in the morning, when he could think properly.<p>

Seconds before falling asleep, one last question crossed his mind:

_How is it possible that I don't remember why I know them?_

_#_

_Nick could still hear Aaron and Zak's receding footsteps as he lied himself down on the slab. He quickly regretted volunteering to stay in the creepy ass morgue, he'd admit it. But they'd gotten an amazing amount of evidence so far and Zak would've forced him to get in anyway, so why put it off?_

_The vibe in the entire hospital was ridiculously heavy from all the dark energy stored over its 90 acres of land and now all that suffocating energy was locked into the tiny, condensed-_

_Nick stopped that train of thought and attempted to get his breathing under control. A panic attack in here would be like __**hell,**__ so he began his solo investigation._

"_Here I am, in a morgue, at a mental hospital that's been abandoned for years," Nick__said into the camera, motioning around himself. "Where I'm laying right now, is where a lot of dead bodies have lied before, in the past."_

_The greenish glow of the night vision cameras didn't quite capture the anxiety, well covered by his tough vibrato. The Bostonian exhaled heavily. "Now I know how it feels to be dead," he said more subdued tone of voice, shaking his head. "It's not fun."_

_Nick continued with his running commentary, explaining how EVP works and asking the run questions when he heard footsteps outside his drawer.  
><em>

"_Is someone out there? I just heard you."__  
><em>

_**Help!**_

"_Hello?" Nick asked, looking around the tight space. "Is there someone in here with me?"_

_Nick held himself still, listening for another sound. The voice was so clear to him, but there was always a possibility the still camera didn't catch it. After receiving no audible response, he decided to approach the spirit more gently.  
><em>

"_I mean you no harm. I come here with the deepest respect for those who lost their lives in this horrible place," Nick said, truthfully. "If you have anything to say, now is a good time to say it."_

_The silence following each statement prompted him to continue. "If there are children here, I just want you to come over to this red light," Nick clutched the recorder in his left hand. "And say your name. Can you do that, please?"_

_After a few more minutes of silence, Nick captured his first EVP._

"_**Dark...**__" The soft voice echoed off the steel walls._

_Nick tensed up, feeling the temperature drop._

"_**Scared…**__"_

"_Whoa." He pushed himself against the left side of his stall, freezing when he heard a little girl's voice make a short cry. Upon hearing the sound again, he deduced it to be the spirit of a little girl. Paternal instincts kicking in, Nick forgot about the digital recorder and the cameras._

"_Come here, sweetie," he lied down on his back, patting the spot on his right. "You can come lay here with me, okay? Just come to the red light."_

_Nick felt a light pressure settle against his side. The amount of energy the spirit gave off was incredible. He gasped, more surprised than frightened. The spirit radiated innocence rather than a maliciousness. Nick blinked at the seemingly empty space, fascinated while wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her to stop her quiet moans._

_"I'm Nick. Can you tell me your name?" _

_Over his shivering, Nick thought he heard,__** "Anna"**__. He turned he head toward the clearly intelligent spirit with a smile. _

_"Hello, Anna. How old are you?" There was no response but he felt presence emit a more relaxed energy beside him. _

_Just then, an angry growl echoed from deep within the morgue. _

"_Is that you, Anna?" Nick asked. "Are you growling at me?"_

"_**No,"**__ came the soft whisper, in the same instant as a threatening growl. Nick couldn't make out what it was saying but he knew it wasn't friendly. The young spirit as well as the unknown entity were draining his energy very quickly._

"_Who are you?" Nick couldn't see anything in the blackness but he most definitely heard a deep male voice._

"_**MINE."**__  
><em>

_He felt the vibration of the rumbling voice through his chest as well as the threatening presence of the possessive entity. Nick was starting to freak out from all the hostile energy but knew he was stuck until Zak and Aaron came back for him. The trapped man started banging on the door, trying to push it open._

"_**He's coming…!"  
><strong>_

_The little spirit was still syphoning off his energy, making him more lethargic and susceptible to an attack. _

"_Don't worry. I'll get us out," Nick twisted round so he could kick the door but to no avail. The other demonic spirit growled even louder, causing him to bang louder. _

"_Guys? Where are you?!" He screamed down the walkie-talkie, only to be met with static. "Can you hear me?!" _

"_Yeah, we can hear you Nick. We're just having fuckin difficulty finding you right now…" Zak's well timed muffled voice came through the walkie-talkie. Nick took a second to breathe before talking again._

"_You can't find where I am right now?"_

"_Fuck…" Not wanting to have his back to the evil entity, he pushed himself against the door. Nick could feel his heart beating faster and faster._

"_I'm losing my fucking mind and I need to get outta here, man! I'm-" he felt the little girl grip his shirt, "-I'm going crazy."_

_Zak's muffled words dissipated into static as the walkie's battery is drained. Frustrated, Nick slammed the useless device against the door of the drawer. "Damnit!"_

_He banged his head against the side wall of his prison and waited in the darkness, praying his friends wouldn't get lost in the miles of underground tunnels._

#

_Nick wasn't sure if he should've been panicked or relieved that the entity that growled at him had gone. But his thoughts returned to the sweet presence on his right side. He knew that demonic entities would portray little children to get people's guards down, he couldn't believe the frightened spirit gripping his shirt could be anything but a child._

"_Is that the thing that has been keeping you and all the other spirits here, Anna?" Nick felt the little spirit yank on his shirt pocket._

_Nick could hear Zak and Aaron closing in from down the hall. _

"_**Don't leave."  
><strong>_

_Nick felt frigid air caress his cheek, so cold, it burned.  
><em>

"_**Scared!"**_

_Nick's heart was breaking into tiny pieces. How could he leave the innocent spirit in that horribly dark space with that evil entity for eternity? With guilt gnawing away at his stomach, he whispered over the lump in his throat. _

"_I'm__** so**__ sorry, Anna." He lied back, staring at the space where the heavy, sad feeling was emanating._

"_**Please!"**_

_Both Aaron and Nick burst through the door to the morgue room._

"_Nick!" He heard their hurried footsteps outside his drawer. With no time to think about the consequences, Nick acts. _

"_Come in!" He whispers in a rush, arms spread wide. "I invite you in!" _

_A blinding flash of white is that last thing Nick sees before losing consciousness for a moment.  
><em>

"_**Thank you,"**__ the little spirit murmurs softly as she enters his body, receding into the corners of Nick's mind. _

_Zak struggles with the morgue door, unlocking Nick's drawer. As the slab rolls out, the freed man rubs at his eyes like a crying child._

"_You alright?" Zak and Aaron's joint concern evident in the question. _

_And then he forgot. _

_Only remembering his intense need to __**get out**__, Nick mumbled, "...That was the worst experience of my life."_

_The three of them chuckled in unspoken relief and continued the investigation._

**Chapter 3 done! **


	4. Shattered

**It's been a while, hasn't it?  
>Here's chapter 4!<strong>

_And I can see it coming from the edge of the room._  
><em>Creeping in the streetlight.<em>  
><em>Holding my hand in the pale gloom.<em>  
><em>Can you see it coming now?<br>Ah, I think I'm breaking down again..._

_Don't leave...Scared!_

Nick could feel his heart clenching in his chest.

"_I'm so sorry, Anna," _came the helpless murmur.

"Nick?"

"_I'm so sorry, Anna. So sorry…"_

"Nick!"

The man in question jerked into consciousness from his wife shaking his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" He mumbled, palming the remnants of sleep and the nightmare from his eyes. He woke up as soon as he noticed the look of anger on her face.

_Uh-oh_. Nick immediately back–pedaled. "What did I do?"

Veronique tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "I don't know, Nick. Maybe you should ask _Anna_."

The almost chocked mid-yawn, barely covering his surprise with a cough. "I don't know any 'Anna,' babe."

Before the exhausted man could tuck the plush comforter over his shoulder and end the conversation, Roni snatched it out of his grip, draping it over her legs and the floor.

"Really? You don't know any 'Anna'?" Nick knew whatever he said could either be a "lie" or the exact opposite of what his clearly pissed off wife wanted to hear, so he leaned against the headboard with his arms crossed, waiting for her to answer for him.

"Then why the_ hell _were you yelling her name in your sleep?" Roni articulated the last 3 words with slaps on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Nick flinched, failing to stop her small, unforgiving hands. "Hey-STOP! I already told you: I don't know anyone named Anna!"

"Don't bullshit me, Nick. I swear to God, if you're cheating on me, I swear to God-"

"Cheating?" Nick asked, honestly confused. He chastised himself for not seeing how upset his the woman he loved was becoming; tears forming in her sad, blue eyes. Taking her hands in his own, Nick maneuvered their bodies so they were sitting facing each other.

"I would never -could never _ever_- cheat on you," Nick swore, gripping Veronique's hands tighter. "Please, tell me you understand that."  
>Nick tilted her chin when she tried to hide the big, fat tears falling down her cheeks. "Tell me you know how much I love you and I would do anything and everything to keep you safe. <em>Please.<em>"

"I'm sorry," she murmured, burying her face in his solid. "I know, believe me, I know. It's just," She tucked a lock of her long hair behind her ear as she twisted her night shirt.

"Talk to me, baby. Let me know what's going on in that thick skull of yours," She sighed, flicking her husband in the temple. "I know you. You're always the first to step into the fray. You're the tough guy who can take a hit and then some but you're still human. You don't have to shoulder everything by yourself, okay?"

Nick wrapped an arm around her, a relaxed hum his agreement. "Of course. We're in this together, right?"

Roni leaned up again to peck his smiling mouth, when her own smile faltered.

"What?" Nick asked, noticing Roni nibbling her bottom lip. "What's up?"

"It's probably nothing," she dismissed, snuggling up to her husband again. "It was probably the moonlight."

"What was?" Nick asked again, wrapping the duvet and his other arm around his dozing wife.

"I could've sworn-" A yawn interrupted her speculation. "I could've sworn your eyes flashed white for a second. Must have been a trick of the light."

#

The next few weeks were hit and miss. Some days were wonderful and reminded Veronique of their honeymoon period; full of smiles, gentle touches and long kisses. While others…weren't as pleasant.

"I'm gonna shave. I'll meet you downstairs," Nick turned his back on his wife, shuffling into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. Today was definitely one of those days.

Veronique sighed, falling dejectedly onto their bed. The pain and confusion from the sporadic bouts of coldness were becoming too much for her to brave. It was as if he was becoming a completely different person. And she couldn't deny the white hue that swirls behind her husband's eyes from time to time.

The worried wife slouched over with her face in her hands.

_What is going on with him_? She groaned herself, to God, to anyone willing to answer at this point.  
><em>It's obviously something paranormal but we've been able to handle it.<em>

Veronique sighed again, falling back onto the warm duvet and praying for a miracle.

"**No!**"

Following Nick's terrified shout from the bathroom, she heard a shattering of glass.

"Nick!?" Veronique bounded over their bed**, **and fumbles with the door handle before swinging the door open wide.

Nick stared blankly, a look of pure terror frozen on his face, blood running down his wrist.

"Oh my _God_," Veronique gasped, covering her mouth, horrified by the scene before her. Four shards of glass and metal were protruding from Nick's bleeding knuckles. She forced her gaze from his injury and noticed a fist sized hole in their medicine cabinet with spider-web fractures throughout the mirrors glass.

She took hesitant steps towards Nick, hoping not to startle the man. The concerned blonde gently wrapped her fingers around Nick's bloodied wrist. There was so much blood…

"Nick, you're hurt," Veronique squeezed his wrist, hoping to get his attention. But he kept staring into the shattered mirror as if he was somewhere far away.

"There's chucks of glass sticking out of your fucking hand! You need help!" And now she's crying and screaming at the top of her lungs, and she's shaking him and she's shaking and there's speckles of blood on her night shirt and- _when the hell did our lives turn into a fucking soap opera?!_

Nick flinched, as if he was snapped out of a trance.

"Roni? What's-Agh," He exhaled sharply, noticing the pain in his hand. He snatched his wrist out of her loose hold and started to panic.

"What happened?" He yelled at her, anger and fear intermingled in his tone. He eyes were suddenly filled with rage as he glared at woman he loved. He backed away from her.

Nick followed Veronique's finger as she pointed towards the destroyed cabinet. His eyes flickered between his hand and the hole in the glass.

"I did this?"

"Well, what's the last thing you remember?" She questioned the man in awe of what he had just done.

"I don't know-" He answered, shaking his head, cradling his chest.

"How do you_ not_ remember punching the fucking mirror?!"

"Alright!" Nick yelled over her screeches, massaging his eyes with his uninjured hand. "Alright. Let's just calm down. I'm sure we'll figure this out-"

"No, Nick. I don't think we can," Veronique interrupted, shaking her head, loose curls moving with it. "I have handle all the other stuff you brought home with you: the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the freaky spirits, because we manage that _together_. But this? The violence, your bipolar tendencies, and this 'Anna' person whom you claim you don't-"

Unexpectedly, Nick rushed in her space, hate-filled eyes piercing through her.

"_Don't you ever even think her name again or you'll regret it…"_ came the menacing threat as the white hue was replaced by shadowy, mist swirling in his eyes.

Her eyes grew wider as the bruising grip on her arms grew tighter and tighter. This clearly wasn't Nick anymore. And this is completely out of her hands now. She quickly came to terms with the fact as the repeated threat fell from her husband's lips over and over again, each time more angry.

"Stop it!" Veronique pulled her arm free and struck Nick across his cheek.

His words ceased as he staggered from his wife. Only their ragged breaths broke the silence of the tiny bathroom. Veronique could still feel the pressure on her biceps, hand suspended in the air, when her husband came back to himself again.

Nick straightened his posture, face void of any emotion. "I'm going out."

When he walked past her, not sparing her a second glance, she fought every instinct that told her to stop him from leaving, to grab him and hold him, to do something. _Anything._ But she couldn't anymore. This was beyond the two of them.

As soon as the bedroom door clicks shut, Veronique collapsed in on herself, scrapping her knees on the bits of glass covering the carpeted floor. Her blonde locks fell in her face as she tried to hold in her sobs, but, at the sound of the car peeling out of the driveway, the defeated woman wraps her numb arms around herself and let them go.

**Happy belated holidays and Happy New Year, everyone! I hope everyone had a safe and pleasant ending to 2014. I have no intention of discontinuing this story but because I finally got into music school and other commitments, the updates will most likely be random.**

**Thank you in advance for bearing with me! Also: is anyone else heartbroken over Nick's departure from Ghost Adventures?! Anyone excited for his new show on Destination America?**


	5. Goodbye

_You're the one I love _

_And I'm saying goodbye_

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_

_And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you_

_#_

Zak sauntered out of his gym, satisfied with the dull ache throughout his body. The much needed breaks between filming always give him the extra motivation to stay in shape. A strong body and constitution make an attack of any kind almost impossible to succumb to.

While getting into his car and taking a mouthful of water, Zak's phone buzzed in his pocket, Nick's house number showing on the caller ID.

"Hey, man. What's going on?" Zak greeted as he pulled out of the crowded parking lot. He's a little surprised when he hears a feminine voice chime down the line.

"Oh, it's just little ol' me," Veronique chuckled at Zak's assumption.

"Hey, Ron! Always nice to hear your voice," was his flirtatious response.

She laughed, good-natured woman that she was and promptly shut him down.

"Hmm, not sure I can say the same, hun," she tutted, playfully. "Stealing my husband away for days at a time? Makes a girl wonder what goes on outside those lockdowns of yours."

Zak made a thoroughly amused noise at this, trying to weave through traffic and get home safely.

"He's all yours, Ron. No question about it," the still giggling investigator assured her.

"You're damn right he is." The blonde replied, fondly. He turned a corner and continued on a straight away for a minute before realizing Veronique was still on the line.

"Are you there?" Zak heard fumbling from her side of the call.

"Yes! Y-Yeah, I'm still here," she stuttered.

Zak sensed a change in her tone. She sounded flustered. And worried. That's saying something, seeing as her husband hunts ghosts for a living.

"Is something wrong?" His usually funny, confident manner gone, replaced with quiet concern. Not only was it out of the ordinary that Veronique would be calling him when he was with Nick -he had his own phone- but for her to call Zak directly when Nick was in town meant something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Tell me what happened." His tone left no room for refusal. He heard her long-suffering sigh and decided to park on side-street.

"It's just," she paused for a moment. "Has anything strange happened during the last few investigations?"

Zak sharply inhaled, heart speeding up. Had a spirit attached itself to Nick and followed him home?

"Is there some spirit causing you trouble? Did you tell Nick yet? I'm sure he can find someone to do a cleansing-"

"No, no. Nothing like that," she assured him, continuing the same awkward silence as before.

Zak crossed his arms, impatient and anxious. "Well, what is it? Honestly, you're scaring me."

Veronique sighed again, before asking, "Zak, does Nick seem... different to you?"

Zak recalled Aaron asking him the same thing after they finished filming in New Jersey.

_Bro, does Nick seem kinda off to you?_

She continues, not noticing Zak's thoughtful silence. "I mean, he's been so cold toward me lately. He doesn't seem like himself. So," another deep sigh, "I was hoping you could fill me in. Maybe tell me if I sound like a whiny, teenage girl?"

Zak chuckled, sittings back in his seat, trying to think of anything out of the ordinary. He remembers Nick being more clumsy than usual; dropping things, tripping over his own feet. Nick was definitely not focusing either. On the way home, Nick didn't notice a stopped truck and barely avoided an accident.

But all of that could be attributed to the lack of sleep followed by a long drive. Then he remembered how distressed Nick was after he and Aaron let him out of the morgue. But Nick's been through worse; Washoe Club, Bobby Mackey's, the Goldfield Hotel. What makes this lockdown any different?

"I can't think of anything in particular, Ron. Maybe he's just emotionally drained-"

"He punched the mirror in our bathroom and didn't remember doing it, Zak," she whispered out in rush. "He punched_ through_ it!" The last comment send a deep chill down his spine. Zak started the car again, signaling back into traffic.

"I _heard_ him do it. I _heard _the glass crunch under his fist; the metal folded like wet paper and…" Veronique gasped back a sob.

Hearing the pain in this normally thick-skinned woman unnerved him. And he could tell she wasn't telling him everything she knew. She was too frightened. Zak shook of his worry, fierce loyalty and need to protect took over and he started to formulate a plan.

"Listen very closely, okay? I need you to pack a bag and get out of that house. I don't care what you tell Nick." Zak dictated to his best friend's wife while pulling into his driveway.

"Do you understand?" Zak rapidly texted Aaron before bolting to the front door.

He hears her shaking breathing before she agreed. "As much as I hate to say it, Nick is probably under the influence of something evil and it's not safe for you."

"Do you think you can help him?" The lead investigator hesitates at the door of his home. Could he do anything? He has a theory but there's no definite method to fix whatever is really happening to his friend.

"Honestly, Ron, I don't know," he sighs, finally. He unlocks the door. "But I promise you this: I sure as Hell won't stop 'til I do." The determined investigator ends the call with a brief goodbye and gets to work.

#

Veronique sighed, annoyed with herself, as she clutched the house phone in her hands. Why did she lie? She knew something unnatural was going on with Nick. Why couldn't she just admit that?

She placed the phone back on the hook before dumping her drawers into a large suite case.

_It's because you didn't want to believe you lost. You lost Nick to something you don't understand. And it's killing you._

The painfully-truthful voice rang through in her head, pausing her packing. She sat dejectedly on their bed, with her head between her knees.

Suddenly Veronique jumped up and kicked the side table over with a shout. She stormed over to the destroyed bathroom and yelled, "You haven't won! I will never let that happen. Aaron and Zak would _never_ let that happen! " She grabbed her suitcase, and strode down the stairs with a determined look on her face.

Scribbling a note and placing it by the kitchen counter, Veronique buttoned up her coat.

_I'm counting on you guys. Bring Nick back to us…_

Sending the text with her "safe-house" address to Zak, and with one final look at their house and the life they built together, she opened the door and didn't look back.

(The note read,

I'm so sorry I wasn't strong enough.

I'll be bac I love you.

Veronique)

**This is the last of Veronique for a while! Not sure when the next update will be but the next couple of chapters will be where the real fun begins! **

**Also, if you want to leave a comment to let me know if anyone's still interested, do it! I wanna know who is loving (or hating) this! **

**Happy February!**


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